by Lacey Dailey
She shifts, maneuvering herself to my lap. “I would like that very much.”
Controlling an urge to crush under the world’s tightest hug, I slip one hand around her waist and use the other to drape her in the bedsheet. I won’t have her going cold. “I’m not as nice as Max is, Gia.”
Her eyes disappear in the back of her head. She lets out a breath that tells me she’s on the brink of scolding me. It’s fucking cute. “You’re a riot, Aiden. You know that?”
“Me?” I bark a laugh. “Baby, you crawled into my lap after I told you I have visions of throwing your father into a campfire. You don’t even know me, yet here you are, draping your body over mine.”
She drops her chin and fidgets in my lap, trying to extract herself from my grip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would make you uncomfortable.”
“Did I say it made me uncomfortable?” I haul her so our chests our pressed together and push my nose in her neck. A man could get high off her strawberry scent. “Don’t be leaving, sweet cheeks. I like you here. I was just saying that you don’t know me like you know Max yet.”
She rubs the tip of her nose on my cheek. The gentle way she touches me feels fucking bizarre. Human contact has always meant pain. With Gia, I burn. But it’s not the kind of fire you run from. It’s the kind of fire you dive head first into, smiling as flames breach your skin.
“You honestly think I don’t have some sort of clue into who you are, Aiden?”
“No.”
She sits up. Her eyes are lined with mist. I want to punch a hole in the wall for causing it.
“Gia, please don’t—”
“Shut up.” She gripes, wiping her face. “I can cry if I want to.” She sniffs a few times, dropping her forehead to mine. “Aiden, you endured years of abuse so Max could escape. You exposed yourself to me to protect me from my father. The first chance you have to finally talk about you and the pain you’ve felt, you choose to remind me that you will destroy anyone who tries to hurt me. If that doesn’t scream selfless protector, I don’t know what will.”
“Selfless protector?”
That’s not me.
“Yes, Aiden. Of course.” She grips the sides of my head with a strength I’ve only witnessed through Max. To experience it is like jumping off a cliff—frightening yet liberating. “You protect Max, Aiden. He said so himself. And you protected me the first chance you got. You didn’t even care who might see you. You didn’t think of yourself at all. You only thought of me, and if you think I don’t love you immensely for the person you’ve already shown me you are, then I’m sorry I didn’t say it fast enough.”
“Gia, you don’t—”
“Don’t tell me I don’t know you, Aiden. I recognize that there are things I’m unaware of. I recognize that you and Max are different.” The weight of her palms sliding down my neck and pressing firmly against my bare chest, fused with the passion behind her words unravels me. “You share a soul, Aiden. The two of you may be different, but you’re the same where it counts. Whatever the ingredients are that make up a soul, yours were made with all the same ones.” Her lips move across my chest, leaving a trail of kisses like brands inside my skin. “I know this soul. I love this soul. Knowing it houses not one, but two men who wake up every day, willing to hide themselves if it means they’ll get to live in peace... well... God, baby. I wish mine were made of those ingredients too.”
She pulverizes me.
I cannot even begin to navigate the feelings that rotate around our heart. I don’t know which are his, which are mine, or if we’re both feeling the same thing too intensely. I don’t ponder it for long. I give it about two seconds of headspace before I dig my fingers into her face and slam her lips on mine, growling deeply when I taste her for the first fucking time.
It’s not me looking down any more, watching our lips kiss her from a bird's-eye view. I’m finally present, nibbling at her lips and breathing roughly while my heart spins with the task of guiding my feelings to my mouth so I can tell her I love her back.
“Gia.”
My attempt to rip my face from hers is a failed effort. I barely get her name from my lips before she swallows it down with soft moans and curious hands. She’s touching me like she isn’t familiar with my body. She is. I know she is, but as she guides her lips down my neck, dipping her fingers into the grooves of my chest, I know it isn’t the body she’s mapping. It’s the man inside of it.
Every heave of my chest, quiver of my muscles, or deep growl that rips from my throat, she memorizes. Anything that earns her a sloppy moan, she does again. It isn’t until I’ve sunken into the bed, lying flat on my back with sweat running down my face, do I wonder what the hell I was supposed to be saying.
She crawls up my body and collapses on my chest. The tip of her nose explores the length of my collarbone while our fingers entwine and rest against my stomach. She presses her ear to my chest, listening for something.
I don’t make her wonder.
“I love you, Gia. So fucking much. It’s not just because of Max. I have different opinions than him. We don’t always share feelings or thoughts. I’m not in love with you because of him. I’m in love with you because of you, and I—”
“Aiden.” She shuts me up by sitting up quickly and kissing the corner of my lips. Her wild hair acts as a curtain, caging us in, giving us a moment all to ourselves in one of the busiest places in the country. “I know. I’m not going to pretend I know everything, but I’ll learn.”
“You’ll learn?” She’s given us no indication she was going to hit the ground running, but hearing her words heavily imply she is sticking around for the long run has my normally stricken face cracking a smile.
“I’m a quick learner. You share whatever you want from your past, or share nothing at all. It doesn’t matter to me if you re-open those wounds. What matters is where we go from here and you promising not to hide anymore.”
“It’s just not that easy, Gia.”
“I’m sure it’s not, Aiden, but we’re gonna have to figure something out because I love you both. I don’t want either of you to disappear on me for long periods of time.”
“Baby, we’re going home soon. I don’t expose myself around his parents. We made that choice a long time ago.”
“So, don’t.” She runs the tips of her fingers along my hairline, her next words nearly inaudible. “Just please don’t forget about me.”
If she even knew how ridiculous that sounded. “I won’t, sweet cheeks. I promise.” I cup her chin and drag her down for a kiss. “Just be patient with me, yeah? Max’s career is important to us. I don’t want to get careless and ruin everything he worked for. He’s going places. Have you heard this voice and seen this face?”
“Holy shit.” She laughs. “You’re both overly confident.”
“Stop acting so modest, baby. You’re confident too. I saw you in that tight, little, maroon thing you had on. I was kind of pissed Max let you out of the suite like that.”
“I was confident then because my dress was hot.”
“Fuck yeah, it was. Was that even a dress? It covered nothing!”
“It covered everything, Aiden. But that’s not the point. The point is I’m confident when it doesn’t matter. I have less than a month to summon up twenty-one years of strength and confidence before I have to go deal with my father. That’s only if he doesn’t press charges against you and your temper. If that happens, it’s less time.”
It’s sentences like those that bring out the raging monster in me. These sheets are suddenly too restricting. I carefully shove her off me and fly out of bed. My face is stone as I hurl a finger in her direction. “Baby, if you think you’re going anywhere near your father, you’re tripping.”
“Aiden, I have to confront him.”
“Fuck no you don’t. The last time you confronted him, he put his hands on you. You have something to say? Write a fucking letter or send a goddamn email.”
“Aiden—”
&nbs
p; “This is so not up for discussion, Gia!” I throw my foot into the wall. Pain spreads through my bones. I don’t even flinch. “I will lose my shit times ten.”
“Aiden, come here. Now.”
Nobody fucking bosses me around. Ever. I wreak havoc however and wherever I want because it’s how I cope. It’s how I help Max cope. If I need to put a hole in this hotel suite’s wall, I’ll fucking do it.
But then her skin is on mine, her palm burning into my lower back as she rubs circles soothingly. I turn into putty. Max calls me a sucker.
“Aiden.” She drops her forehead to my shoulder. I stare at the wall as she speaks. “When I go home, I’m going to confront him.”
“You’re really testing my limits here, sweet cheeks.”
“I understand your concern here, Aiden. I do, but I want answers. I deserve answers. I want to know why he’s never given my brothers the hard time he gave me. I want to know why my mother never stuck up for me. I want to know why he cares more about the made-up version of me than the real one, and I want him to know none of those answers change anything.”
Are all women this confusing? Or is it just the one I'm drowning in?
I turn around. “What kind of sense does that make?”
“Aiden.” There is strength in her eyes as she grips the sides of my neck. A strength begging to be released. “I need him to see my life isn’t determined by his choices. It’s determined by mine. I need him to see that I made myself a good life out of a job I enjoy and a man I love. I need him to see that I’m capable. I need him to see that he missed out on a really great person by trying to turn her into something else.”
She kisses my cheek once before dropping her hands and turning away from me. I stay rooted in my spot, watching her walk into the bathroom. The shower starts running, and I stay where I am, fighting the urge to continue the damage I was attempting on that wall.
Now what the fuck am I supposed to do? How the hell am I supposed to argue with her when she wants it so badly? Not just wants it but deserves it?
I’ll have to create some sort of strategy. She isn’t going up against that man without the whole fucking SWAT team standing behind her. Something tells me that idea is going to sound outrageous to her.
Damn it.
19
Gigi
My mind awakens to the sound of unfamiliar, hushed voices. My eyelids are heavy, focus groggy, as I struggle to concentrate on the two women standing in the doorway.
One woman is smirking at me as she lifts a hand in a wave. Art In Motion is stamped on the sweatshirt she wears, and her short dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Resting against her shoulder is the head of another woman. Long soft waves prevent me from seeing her whole face but I don’t miss the friendly smile that won’t stay hidden beneath strands of hair.
I blink a half a dozen times, digging the heels of my hands into my eye sockets to ensure I’m not hallucinating them due to lack of sleep.
Muscles protesting, I heave myself to a seated position. I mumble a quick prayer that the sheets are covering my too short pajama bottoms. Using way more energy than I’d like, I lift my arm and swat his bare chest.
“Max.” He barely flinches. “Max!”
“Stop it.” He whines, swatting at me blindly. “I’m tired.”
“Your parents are standing in the doorway.”
He groans, shoving his face into his pillow. His next words are muffled by the cotton. “Why are they in Vegas?”
“We aren’t in Vegas anymore, Max. We left yesterday after your show.”
A sentence that sounds a lot like gibberish falls from his mouth. With another swat from me, his eyes spring open. “What in the hell?” He sits up, blinking harshly and scratching at his neck. “How did you even get in here?”
The woman with the Art In Motion sweatshirt steps forward, hands folded over her chest. “Beckett let us in. He said to tell you that revenge is sweet.”
“I’m gonna fill his car with sardines.” Max flops back down, burrowing himself beneath the sheets. “Now, go away!”
The other woman steps forward, a frown marring her gentle features. “Maxwell, you’ve been gone for months. We don’t get a hello?”
“Can you wait for a hello when I’ve slept an appropriate amount of time and warned my girlfriend about how invasive my parents are?”
“She’s met us before.” She smiles at me. My brain decides to function and remembers her name. “Hello, Gigi.”
“Hi, Mrs. Mitchell.” Gosh, I hope I sound like a normal human being and not someone who hasn’t slept in eight years. “Nice to see you again.”
“Call me Mandy, honey.” She takes the hand of the woman next to her. “Call my wife Jamie. We don’t like to be formal.”
That doesn’t come as a surprise.
“Can you please come back later?” Max slams his fists into the mattress repeatedly, exaggerated puffs escaping his lips. “I’m tired!”
“Quit whining and get up.” Jamie shoots him a glare that doesn’t portray anything but exasperation. “We brought you and Gigi brunch.”
“Please get up, Maxwell.” Mandy’s approach to coax her grown son out of bed is much nicer. “We brought waffles.”
“Did you bring bacon? Gia likes bacon.”
It’s true. I do like bacon.
“Yes, Maxwell. We brought bacon. Now, get up. You have five minutes.”
Mandy drags Jamie out of the room. The door clicks shut behind them. With another whine, Max rolls towards me and wraps his arms around my middle. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. They missed you.”
Leaning forward, he smothers my face with quick kisses. “They are pretty much always like this.”
I run my hand through his bed head. “Boundaries seem to be invisible to them.”
“I don’t think the word boundary even exists in their vocabulary.”
“Well, I think it’s sweet.” I slip out of bed and pull on some pants. I don’t bother brushing my hair.
“Come on, baby.” Max stumbles to the door, lurching it open. “Let’s go get some bacon.”
I stroll down a narrow hall, hand in hand with my half-naked boyfriend.
“Maxwell!” Jamie shakes her head at his appearance, helping herself to his coffee pot. “Put some damn pants on.”
“You’re lucky I even got out of bed.”
“Yes, honey, we know.” Mandy gestures over her shoulder. “It’s why we brought the waffles.”
They clearly know their son. Max isn’t a morning person. The few times we had to wake up early to go to the studio, I had to coax him out of bed with the smell of coffee and the promise that I’d share my Cheetos.
I never did.
“Would you like some waffles, Gigi?”
I have no idea what time it is, but waffles are delicious no matter where the sun is. “That’d be great. Thank you for going out of your way.”
“It’s not a bother, honey. Sit down.”
Mandy shoves me into a bar stool and goes to work, navigating herself around Max’s small kitchen like I’m sure she’s done many, many times before.
I didn’t really get a good look at Max’s place when we stumbled in sometime before the sun rose. It was dark, I was tired, and the only room I cared about seeing was his bedroom. Fluorescent light now provides me with the opportunity to examine Max’s home.
His kitchen is quite small. Jamie and Mandy brush together every time they pass one another to grab a plate or a cup or to get into the refrigerator stocked with food I assume came from them.
Max and I sit side by side, perched on the only two stools that occupy his L-Shaped counter. As Jamie and Mandy cook, I spin on my stool and survey the living room laid out before me. The space is much, much smaller than the apartment I’ll have to return to, yet it’s a hundred times more homey.
My apartment doesn’t even look like people live in it. It’s impossibly tidy thanks to the cleaning service my mother hired. She wanted m
e to focus on my studies rather than clean up after myself.
My furniture was chosen by my mother as well. I stood beside her in the store, watching mute as she pointed at her favorite display and told the store manager she wanted it all. I rarely used any of it.
I preferred my bedroom because it was the only place in the apartment with even an ounce of who I thought I wanted to be. My room was a sanctuary where I didn’t have to be the Gigi everyone expected of me. I could wear sweatpants and mismatched socks while sporting unbrushed hair and a face free of makeup.
Max’s home looks like anything but a display in an overpriced furniture store. His glass coffee table is piled high with old textbooks. His small love seat has worn cushions and a throw pillow with Beck’s face on it.
I’ll have to ask about that later.
By his front door is a pile of shoes and a stand that holds Johnny. An entertainment stand holds a flatscreen TV I’m positive has been turned on, and the cushions on couch look well loved.
I’m drawn to the photos he has lining his hallway. Each trip I make to the bathroom or his bedroom, I’ll see them. I’ll walk past the captured memories of him performing, the candid shots of him and his moms, and the silly selfies he took with Knox and Beck.
Max’s apartment is smaller than my living room growing up, though it’s bursting with collectables of the life he’s crafted for himself. It’s friendly and it’s cozy and I don’t ever want to leave.
“Gigi, would you like some juice?”
Turning back around, I find Mandy pushing a glass of orange juice across the counter. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Eat up.” She presents me with a plate of waffles, a bowl of syrup, and a mountain of bacon.
“Max, do you—”
My words die when I discover his head on the counter, his mouth gaping, and his eyes closed. I chuckle when his light snore fills the small kitchen.
“He’s hopeless.” Jamie laughs into a sip of coffee.
“I don’t mind.” I nibble on some bacon, struggling to keep my usual appreciative groan to myself. “He insisted on driving the whole way home.”
